The Gamble
by elbcw
Summary: 'As he reached the edge of the clearing, he had to suppress a gasp. Athos was lying on the ground, clearly wounded, with four men searching through their belongings. A fifth man was holding a gun pointed at Athos who was clutching his leg with one hand and holding the other out to show he had no intention of trying to fight the men.' A simple mission gets complicated.
1. Chapter 1

Authors note: Athos whump, d'Artagnan whump and some quick thinking from all four of them.

Chapter One

'Why does this require all four of us?' asked d'Artagnan unable to hide the slight irritation in his voice.

They had been away from Paris for a week. The assignment was not taxing, they simply had to collect a letter from a man a few days ride from the city and return. There had been no reports of attacks from bandits in the area, the roads they were using were quiet with just the odd village or small town every so often.

'Don't complain about it,' replied Porthos with a smile, 'this is better than standing by a door watching the King fawning over some visiting dignitary that he probably loathes.'

Aramis chuckled, 'I think he is missing the lovely Constance…'

D'Artagnan glanced back at them both with narrowed eyes, 'I was just wondering why all four of us were needed.'

Athos rolled his eyes as the three continued the conversation. D'Artagnan made himself a target for Aramis and Porthos' good-natured teasing. The younger man did not seem to realise they were goading him. Although the swordsman had to agree with d'Artagnan there did not seem to be a reason for the four of them to have been sent to collect the letter. They did not know what the letter contained but Treville had not indicated that it was anything of a sensitive nature.

Perhaps, thought Athos, the letter was important but the lack of any urgency to return with it was due to the letter not being time sensitive? The letter was handed to them by an older man, probably in his sixties who looked a little skittish and relieved to part with it. The man had disappeared into the streets of the large town where they met, disappearing from sight within seconds.

At the time they had been working undercover but were now back in their Musketeer uniforms. The weather had been kind to them, their cloaks had only been employed when they had been forced to camp overnight. Most of the time they had found accommodation at taverns along the way.

He knew they would be forced to camp that night as they were too far from the next town. They had found a spot on the first leg of their journey which had served them well and were planning on returning to it. A fast flowing river along one side of a clearing had made for a pleasant view the previous time. The nearest house to their camp had been a small farmhouse. The elderly widower who lived there with a couple of farm hands had come across to them and invited them to his house for a simple dinner. They had accepted the offer, insisting that the man take payment for his troubles. When the farmer had learned they intended to return the same way he had instantly offered them another meal.

'Perhaps Treville just wanted us out of the garrison for a bit?' suggested Aramis to d'Artagnan, 'or Constance has had a word with him and asked for you to be sent away?'

D'Artagnan quickly turned around to glare at Aramis only to find him and Porthos trying not to laugh. Athos finally turned back to the two men behind him.

'Leave him alone, you have been winding him up for hours now. Find something else to amuse yourselves with.'

D'Artagnan looked between Athos and the others before sighing.

'I should have guessed,' he said with exasperation.

Porthos and Aramis laughed out loud.

Porthos reached over to Aramis and slapped him on the arm saying, 'we have been rumbled, my friend. What shall we do now?'

Aramis smirked, 'oh I'm sure we will find something else to do…'

D'Artagnan kicked his horse into a trot and moved ahead of the three of them in an obvious sulk.

Athos glanced back at Porthos and Aramis, raising his eyebrows at them. They both shrugged their shoulders in return.

MMMM

Porthos had watched Aramis urge his horse forward to trot with d'Artagnan. He could see the marksman make an apology which was instantly accepted by d'Artagnan. Within a few seconds they were both laughing about something, Porthos wondered if Aramis had now made him the source of his amusement?

Athos moved next to him, their horses easily falling into step with each other.

'Do you think there is a reason all four of us were sent to collect the letter?' asked Porthos quietly.

Athos smirked, 'it is a valid question...one that has been on my mind since we left Paris.'

'So Treville didn't tell you any more than he told us?'

Athos shook his head.

'We may never know.'

Aramis and d'Artagnan had turned their horses off the road and toward their chosen campsite. They both dismounted and Aramis took the reins of both horses and led them to the river to allow them to drink.

Porthos and Athos followed, dismounting with Athos taking both horses.

Porthos wandered across to d'Artagnan who was assessing the remains of the fire from their previous stay.

'We were bored, and you are just such an easy target,' he said by way of his own apology.

D'Artagnan looked up smiling, 'I know, Aramis said that you used to do the same thing with Athos but that he got so annoyed with you both one day he actually pulled his gun on you both.'

Porthos chuckled at the memory, 'yeah, bored Musketeers can cause others to become dangerous.'

Aramis, who had taken his and d'Artagnan's horses to a tree and wrapped their reins around a low branch walked over to them.

'Athos wants us to visit the farmer, he doesn't want us to all turn up if we are not welcome.'

'Is he worried it will create a diplomatic incident?' asked Porthos with a grin.

'Or it's a punishment for you teasing me and annoying him all day?' suggested d'Artagnan as he went back to sorting the fire out.

'The old man did go on a bit didn't he,' mused Aramis as he started to walk away in the direction of the farm.

The farm was only a few hundred yards from their camp. It did not take long for the two Musketeers to reach it. Aramis had spent the time trying to come up with more ways to subtly wind up d'Artagnan.

'What's the matter?' asked Porthos when Aramis stopped talking and stared ahead.

'Not sure, it just seems...quiet...I know it's only the three of them here but when we passed by before there seemed to be more activity.'

As they approached the modest farmhouse the reason for the silence became apparent. The chickens, which had been roaming the area in front of the house, were nowhere to be seen. Porthos glanced across to the coop at the side of a small barn, it was shut up. A faint clucking could be heard from within.

'Bit early to be shutting up the birds, isn't it?' said Porthos as he began to feel the same sense of unease that Aramis had felt.

They approached the house. Aramis knocked on the closed door, when they received no answer and could not hear any movement from within they resorted to peering through the windows. There was no sign of the farmer or his two labourers. After carefully circling the house and looking inside the barn they returned to the door and knocked again.

'Strange,' said Aramis as he scanned the surrounding area, 'the farm isn't that big, I can't imagine all three men would be too far away not to have noticed us arrive.'

Porthos frowned, 'guess we'll 'ave to cook our own dinner.'

MMMM

When the shot rang out d'Artagnan turned towards the sound. He dropped the bundle of dry wood he had gathered and pulled his gun from his belt quickly checking it was ready to be fired. The shot had come from the direction of their camp. He had only moved a short distance away but could not see the clearing from where he was which meant that whoever was there could not see him either.

He crept back, unsure what to expect. Were there bandits in the area after all? If they had not been planning on eating with the farmer again he could have understood hearing a gunshot. One of his brothers could have been catching them something to eat.

As he reached the edge of the clearing, he had to suppress a gasp. Athos was lying on the ground, clearly wounded, with four men searching through their belongings. A fifth man was holding a gun pointed at Athos who was clutching his leg with one hand and holding the other out to show he had no intention of trying to fight the men.

'Where is it?' asked the man standing over Athos.

'Where is what?' asked Athos quietly.

'You know what we want. Where is it? Do you want me to shoot you in the other leg?'

'I would rather you did not? But I cannot help you if you do not tell what it is you want.'

Athos was trying to sound calm, almost disinterested in the man, but d'Artagnan could detect the pain and fear in his voice.

He realised they were looking for the letter, there was nothing else the men could be looking for. D'Artagnan unconsciously patted the pocket of his doublet to check he still had the sought-after letter.

When the man took a couple of steps towards Athos, d'Artagnan decided he had to make his presence known. He knew Porthos and Aramis would have heard the gunshot and hoped they would be returning as well.

MMMM

He had been shot before, in battle, and once during a stupid bar brawl but this was the first time he had been shot whilst setting up his bedroll. He had arranged his bedding to his liking and had been about to return to his horse to remove the saddle when he heard the shot.

It took him a few seconds to realise he had been the target. He looked at his leg as the pain radiated out. Somewhat surprised at the situation he had not even thought to draw his own weapon before he was pushed to the ground by a man wielding a gun of his own.

He had managed to stop himself from crying out in pain, not wishing to give the man the satisfaction. Athos lay on the floor clutching at his leg, trying to keep pressure on the wound. He found that he was panting slightly as he tried to push the pain away.

There were five men in total, one was standing over him whilst the other four started to ransack his and his friend's belongings. They were looking through all their saddlebags, tossing the contents to the ground with little care. Athos quickly realised they were looking for the letter they were carrying. Pleased that it was not amongst their belongings he decided to play ignorant when the men questioned him as to its location.

'Where is it?' asked the man standing over Athos.

'Where is what?' he replied quietly, looking up at the man with the gun.

'You know what we want. Where is it? Do you want me to shoot you in the other leg?'

'I would rather you did not? But I cannot help you if you do not tell me what it is you want.'

The man looked angry, he took a couple of steps toward him and levelled the gun, aiming at his right leg. Athos knew he could do nothing to prevent the second shot himself.

On cue d'Artagnan appeared, gun already aimed at the man. The other four men stopped their search. One of them drew a gun to aim at d'Artagnan.

'Leave now,' said d'Artagnan, 'we have nothing that would be of any use to you.'

The man who was pointing a gun at Athos looked across at d'Artagnan.

'You have a letter, which we would very much like to be in possession of. I am sorry my man shot your friend, it was not our intention to hurt any of you.'

'We don't have a letter.'

The man aimed his gun at Athos' chest.

'You said you didn't want to hurt us.'

'If you give us the letter we will leave.'

'We have no letter,' said d'Artagnan.

Athos wondered how long they could keep the simple conversation going. Aramis and Porthos must have heard the gunshot. They were close enough. He wondered if they were on the edge of the clearing waiting for the best moment to make themselves known.

'Then we will be forced to kill you both, and the other two when they return…

The man nodded slightly. D'Artagnan looked across the clearing, Athos saw him react, but his reaction was a second too late. The shot hit his arm, pushing him back a step. He dropped his gun as his arm went limp to his side.

But the young man managed to regain his composure quickly before the man who had shot him could reload, or the other men raise their own weapons. D'Artagnan stumbled a few steps to stand at the edge of the river bank. A steep drop of about three feet behind him. He pulled the letter from his doublet and held it out, over the water with this uninjured left arm.

Athos watched with interest, unsure if what d'Artagnan had done was what he would do in the situation.

The men wanted the letter, d'Artagnan had just shown them he had it.

'Leave now, or I will drop it.'

'What good will that do you?' asked the man who was still vaguely pointing his gun at Athos.

'If none of us has it there is no reason to kill us,' replied d'Artagnan.

Athos wondered if his statement was more of a question. The young man looked pale. Athos wondered how bad the shot to his arm was. If d'Artagnan were to pass out where he was the chances were he would fall into the river. The water was deep enough and moving fast enough that he would probably be carried away.

The man who was stood over Athos looked down at him then back to d'Artagnan.

'Give me the letter or I will shoot him.'

'If you shoot him I will drop the letter.'

Athos realised they had arrived at a stalemate. Neither man could back down.

MMMM


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The pain in his arm was starting to cloud his judgement. He was now unsure if he had made the right choice.

They were stuck with no easy way out.

'If you go now, we will leave the letter behind when we leave.'

The man stared at him.

'Really? Why not just hand the letter over?'

'Because then we won't have anything to bargain with. All I want to do is tend to my friend.'

D'Artagnan was starting to feel a little dizzy. The initial wave of energy was wearing off. If the men realised how badly he had been injured, they might try to attack him.

'How touching,' said the man standing over Athos.

D'Artagnan was not really sure what to do, he glanced down to Athos, but he was looking at the man standing over him. Athos' breeches were stained where he was not able to keep enough pressure on the wound. D'Artagnan did not have much time to play with. Both he and Athos needed to get their injuries looked at.

He could not hand over the letter. The letter was clearly important to someone, and if the men obtained it they would probably just kill them both anyway.

D'Artagnan was beginning to think his gamble that the men might leave if he threatened to destroy the letter was not going to pay off.

MMMM

Aramis pulled his gun as he ran, Porthos was doing the same thing. The deserted farm had them both feeling uneasy. Hearing a shot ring out from the direction of their encampment had both men moving quickly.

When they heard a second gunshot they did not bother to hide their approach. They stepped into the clearing. Aramis drew his second gun, he aimed one at the man who was aiming at d'Artagnan and one at a man standing near their horses.

Porthos had aimed his weapon at the man who was standing over Athos. The man looked around as they appeared.

Aramis took in his two friends. Athos had been shot in the right leg and was trying to put pressure on the wound, but seemed to be struggling. He was breathing quickly but trying to remain focused on the man standing over him.

D'Artagnan had also been shot, his right arm hanging limply by his side. He was standing right on the edge of the river bank. His left hand which was shaking slightly was poised, with the letter clutched tightly, over the fast-flowing river.

Aramis realised the d'Artagnan had threatened to drop the letter in an attempt to make the men retreat. A good idea, but not one that would have worked whilst he and Porthos were not there. Now that they had evened up the numbers somewhat the man standing over Athos looked a little less sure of himself.

The man glanced at Porthos and then at Aramis before looking back at d'Artagnan.

'I see help has arrived,' he said with a slight sneer.

'Just leave and when we go we'll leave the letter,' said d'Artagnan.

Aramis watched as the man, who he decided must be the leader of the group, thought about the proposition.

D'Artagnan shifted his footing slightly, Aramis looked the man over. There was a shake to his left hand and arm and blood was starting to drip down off his right hand and onto the ground. Aramis realised his friend was very close to passing out. If the leader of the group saw how badly injured d'Artagnan was it might change the situation back to the intruder's favour.

Aramis looked at d'Artagnan, he had to be careful not to draw attention to himself. When d'Artagnan made eye contact with him he looked down at the injured man's arm shaking his right hand slightly as he did so. D'Artagnan looked at him for a few seconds not comprehending. Aramis looked across to Porthos and made eye contact, this time looking down at Porthos right arm before looking pointedly at d'Artagnan.

Porthos followed his gaze and realised what Aramis had spotted. He made eye contact with d'Artagnan and subtly moved his left arm behind his back before nodding at him.

Realisation dawned on d'Artagnan who slowly moved his injured arm back, hiding the dripping blood. Aramis almost took a step forward when he saw d'Artagnan sway a little. They were on borrowed time.

The leader of the group had weighed up his options.

'We'll be back in an hour, if the letter has not been left behind, we will come after you. You won't get far. Not with two of you injured.'

He nodded to the other men who slowly retreated. Porthos took a few steps forward. The men walked away, glancing back at them frequently. When the men were out of sight Porthos turned back.

They moved toward d'Artagnan who seemed a little unfocused, he had not moved from the bank of the river. As they got closer to him he swayed, his hand loosening on the letter. Porthos grabbed d'Artagnan, stopping him from toppling back into the river. Aramis grabbed the letter from his hand before helping Porthos to guide the injured man back to the centre of the camp where Athos was watching them.

MMMM

'We don't have much time,' said Porthos, looking in the direction the gang had retreated, 'they are gonna come back, and we can't defend ourselves properly in the dark and deal with the injuries.'

D'Artagnan was sat in front of him cradling his injured arm, 'I'm sorry, I should have done something different…'

Athos, who was trying not to react to Aramis applying a field dressing to his leg said, 'you had to think quickly...yes it probably would have worked better if you had waited for Aramis and Porthos to return, but you...did buy as a little time.'

D'Artagnan still looked guilty.

'I'll pack our stuff, will either of you be able to ride on your own?' asked Porthos as he moved to the horses.

Before either injured man could reply Aramis answered for them, 'if we can get d'Artagnan up I think he will be alright for a little while, but I'm not sure about Athos.'

Athos glared at Aramis, 'I am capable of answering for myself. I have not passed out yet.'

'Exactly...not yet.'

Porthos could not help a small smile as he quickly gathered their scattered belongings. He packed up the saddlebags and brought d'Artagnan's horse towards the other men.

Aramis was pulling d'Artagnan up to stand, he helped the injured man towards the horse. Between them, Porthos and Aramis got d'Artagnan onto the patient beast. Aramis remained by d'Artagnan for a few seconds watching as the man steadied himself.

Porthos looked around at Aramis, 'do you want him?'

Aramis nodded. Athos glared at them both.

'I still have not passed out,' he said before wincing as Aramis helped him up.

'Good, now stay that way for a few minutes will you?' replied Aramis.

Porthos took over supporting their friend as Aramis mounted up. After they had manoeuvred Athos up to sit in front of Aramis the man was very pale, he leaned back on Aramis breathing quickly.

Porthos glanced at Aramis who shook his head slightly, 'we can't go too far. We need to see to their wounds properly.'

'The farmhouse? We'll break in if we have to. We can put the horses out of sight in the stable, they might not find us.'

'What do you mean...break in?' asked Athos between panted breathes.

'It looked abandoned when we went there,' said Aramis as he shifted position to get comfortable.

'I do not think we have a choice. We either do that or try and make the next town,' said Athos.

D'Artagnan said quietly, 'the farmhouse...sorry don't think I will make it much further on my own.'

Porthos nodded, 'let's get over there then.'

MMMM

It was a difficult few minutes for them all, Porthos rode a few yards in the direction that the gang had left, his gun at the ready, constantly scanning the area. Aramis knew he was making himself a target to the men if they returned quicker than the Musketeers were expecting them.

D'Artagnan who was enjoying a brief surge of energy managed to dismount and led his horse into the farms small stable before returning to take Athos' which was being led by Aramis.

Aramis watched him carefully, wondering how long the man's energy would last.

'We are not going to be much use to you,' said Athos as he managed to push himself forward so that Aramis could dismount.

'I know, and if they come back soon, we may not have time to properly see to your injuries,' replied Aramis as he steadied Athos when he had dismounted.

Athos was unable to hold much of his own weight, Aramis pulled the swordsman's arm around his shoulder. They made their way to the door of the farmhouse as Porthos returned.

'No sign yet, hopefully they'll go back to the camp first, before they start searching the area...they may miss the farmhouse.'

'That, my friend, is wishful thinking,' said Aramis.

Porthos crossed to the door, he tried the handle. When he found it locked he took a step back and gave the door a swift kick. The door swung open. He walked a few steps inside before returning to the door.

'No sign of anyone,' he said as he ushered the others in, 'I'll sort the horses out.'

Aramis helped Athos into the house, lowering him into a cushioned chair. He looked about. The room looked a little untidy. When they had visited before they had all remarked on the neatness of the house. The old farmer appeared to have kept the place exactly as it would have been when his wife was still alive. The two farm labourers had been polite, tidy lads as well.

Athos grabbed Aramis' arm and pointed to d'Artagnan who was blinking and wavering. Aramis gently pushed the younger man into a chair before he collapsed.

'He's lost some blood,' said Aramis as he tried to get d'Artagnan comfortable.

'It's alright,' slurred d'Artagnan.

'Yes I'm sure it is, but right now, you need to sit there.'

Porthos returned, closing the door behind him. He looked briefly around the room before dragging a small bookcase in front of the insecure door.

'Can we chance a fire?' asked Aramis looking at the others.

'May as well,' said Porthos as he looked at the hearth.

'Check the rest of the house, before you start on us,' said Athos.

Reluctantly Aramis agreed.

He moved around the room checking each window, shuttering the ones that he could. He walked up the stairs. Two rooms, bedrooms he guessed, led off a small landing. The first room was clearly the farmers, a bed with two small side tables. One of the side tables had a piece of half-finished embroidery laying on it. Aramis smiled sadly, the farmer had related to them that his wife had died suddenly. Aramis wondered if the farmer had ever really recovered from the loss.

Aramis crossed the landing to the other room, he pushed the door open. He could not help reacting to the sight. Slung haphazardly across the two single beds were the farmer and his two labourers. They had all had their throats slit, the blood had stained the blankets of the beds. Aramis could see defence wounds on the labourer's arms. The young men had tried to fight back.

Porthos appeared behind him, 'what is it?'

Aramis stood aside so that Porthos could see into the room, 'who did this?'

'The gang that attacked us...the farmer was too friendly…'

'That means they know about this place.'

'Aramis,' called Athos from the ground floor.

They quickly returned to the living area to find d'Artagnan had collapsed, falling off the chair. Aramis pulled the man on to his back. D'Artagnan was conscious but looked confused.

'I'll drop the letter…' he said.

'D'Artagnan?' asked Aramis.

The man stared ahead, unfocused. Aramis checked the bandage on d'Artagnan's arm, it was soaked with his blood. As he went about changing the bandage Porthos related to Athos what they had found in the bedroom.

'Our situation has not improved,' said Athos.

MMMM

Athos watched as the two uninjured men moved quickly through the house, fortifying where they could. They moved a tall bookcase across one of the small windows that did not have a shutter. The sturdy table from the living area was upended and placed in front of the door as an extra barricade.

They knew there was a strong chance the gang would find their hiding place. All they needed was a little time to regroup, but Athos suspected they would not get it. His injury was serious enough that he could not walk unaided and d'Artagnan, although still conscious, was making no sense. His confusion was worrying. They hoped that once they could deal with his injury he might start to improve.

Porthos busied himself with the fire while Aramis changed the bandage on d'Artagnan's arm again. The young Musketeer had continued to mumble about the letter and threatened them several times that he would drop it.

'I don't want to start stitching either of you in case we get disturbed. Porthos won't be able to hold off that many men on his own.'

'I could try,' retorted Porthos with a grim smile as he stoked the fire.

'You two should go, take the letter, send help to us.'

Aramis stared at Athos for a few seconds as he unwound the dressing on his leg.

'I know you won't, but you should,' said Athos before Aramis could berate him.

He watched as Aramis assessed the wound on his leg.

'The ball has gone through, it's only hit the fleshy part of your leg, you were lucky,' he said looking up.

'I do not feel particularly lucky at the moment.'

Aramis nodded, 'the situation is not ideal.'

'How are we gonna get out of this then?' asked Porthos when he was finally satisfied with the fire.

'You can't have the letter…'

They glanced across at d'Artagnan, who was trying to sit up, the confused look still on his face. Porthos settled himself down on the floor next to the incoherent man and gently pushed him back down and tidied up the blanket they had put over him.

'I think the only way we are going to satisfy those men is to give them the letter...despite what d'Artagnan might think,' said Athos as he watched his friend settle down again.

'But we can't do that,' said Aramis.

Athos nodded, 'then we have to hope that they do not…'

They all looked towards the front of the house as they heard a voice outside. Athos recognised the voice of the gang's leader. The man was calling to them.

MMMM


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Porthos and Aramis scrambled up. Aramis ran up the stairs as Porthos moved to the one window they had left without a barricade, he peered out.

'All five of them are there,' he said glancing back to Athos who had managed to move himself to sit at the table they had arranged their weapons on.

They knew that Athos would not be able to help defend the property, but he could keep their guns loaded if they found themselves in a gunfight.

The leader of the gang called again, 'give us the letter and we will go, we know that one of you is lame, how long do you think you will last. You are only three men.'

Porthos looked at Athos then at d'Artagnan who did not seem to have noticed the recent activity, he was staring at the fire, a vacant expression on his pale face.

'They think he's alright,' said Porthos, 'they think the injury he took was superficial.'

'If they realise we only have two uninjured men they are going to force their way in,' replied Athos shaking his head, 'we are at a disadvantage.'

Aramis had returned from the upstairs window he had intended to station himself at.

'We need to make them think that d'Artagnan is still fine,' he said looking at the man in question.

'We can't put him by a window, he'll probably start spouting nonsense at them…'

Porthos paused when he saw Athos trying to get up from the chair, wincing in pain.

'...and you ain't doing it...sit back down,' he said guiding the pained man back to the seat.

Athos was struggling to stay conscious after trying to stand. He blinked a few times before swaying and slumping to the side. Porthos pulled him from the chair and lay him on the floor as gently as he could. Athos managed to open his eyes briefly, a moment of clarity before he passed out.

'La Rochelle,' he said quietly, 'use the labourers...same age...long shot...might work.'

Athos' eyes fluttered closed as he finally passed out. Porthos looked across at Aramis, the simplicity of the plan dawning on both of them at the same time.

They had all been at the Siege of La Rochelle. They had needed to talk away from any potential eavesdroppers. Athos had made a bet with some of the other soldiers that the four of them could hold the recaptured St. Gervais bastion for an hour on their own. They had used the bodies of other soldiers propped up along a wall as a deterrent to any attackers. The plan had worked, they had managed to talk and had prevented the enemy from taking the bastion back. It was a very simple plan, it had worked before, there was no reason it would not work again.

The leader of the gang of men was calling again, 'just give us the letter…'

Porthos returned to the window and fired his gun in the men's direction making sure he did not hit any of the men, he just wanted their attention.

'You ain't getting the letter. We can hold you off until help arrives. There are more men coming,' he said, although he held out little hope that the lie would be believed.

Porthos fired another shot, a little closer to the men, causing them to retreat to the edge of the farmhouses yard.

He glanced back at Aramis who was busy unbuttoning d'Artagnan's doublet. The younger man was weakly fighting him off, but Aramis had no trouble pushing his hands away.

'You can't have the letter…'

'I don't want the letter d'Artagnan, all I want is your jacket.'

As quickly as he could and without agitating the injury too much Aramis divested d'Artagnan of his doublet. He quickly returned to the upper floor. Porthos could hear the floorboards creaking as his friend entered the room where the bodies had been left.

Athos had come up with a simple plan, disguise one of the bodies as d'Artagnan, prop him up by a window with a gun and leave him there. The men would think it was d'Artagnan and consequently think they were only one man down, not two. They would have to fire a shot from the window every so often to maintain the charade.

Porthos heard a couple of shots from upstairs followed by Aramis quickly returning to the living area, reloading his guns as he crossed to the window Porthos was standing by.

A few gunshots saw both men throwing themselves down to the floor. Aramis crawled to one of the shuttered windows and opened it a couple of inches. He nodded to Porthos.

Both men fired at the same time before crouching down again.

'We can't keep this up,' sighed Porthos, 'I said to d'Artagnan that I was bored earlier...I wish I was bored now.'

Aramis managed a smile as he finished reloading his weapons, 'they still haven't tried to get in, Athos' long shot is paying off.'

They knew they could not kill any of the men the possibility of the others storming the house in retaliation was too great. If all four of them were fit it would have been no issue to take on the gang. But with just the two of them defending the property, it was an impossibility.

Aramis scurried back up the stairs as Porthos fired one gun from the window he was crouched by before moving over to the other window. He paused for a few seconds, when he heard a shot from the first floor he fired his second gun.

He looked over to the stairs as Aramis descended again and rather inelegantly slipped to the floor as more shots were sent their way from the gang outside. Aramis had pushed himself flat at the bottom of the stairs, chips of woodwork and masonry flew about the room as the volley finished. It was unfortunate that the stairs were opposite one of the windows.

The gang could not see them but if they continued to fire there was a chance a lucky shot could hit either of them as they moved about between floors and windows. But they could not afford to remain static, they had to maintain the pretence that d'Artagnan was firing his weapon with them.

Aramis nodded to Porthos that he was alright before scrambling over to d'Artagnan who was trying to stand up. He grabbed the confused man and forced him back down. D'Artagnan protested, and with a brief show of strength tried to push Aramis away. Porthos was about to cross the room to assist when more shots were fired. He ducked down, under the window watching Aramis struggle to keep d'Artagnan down.

'Stay down...people are trying to take the letter, if you keep still they can't get it…'

D'Artagnan nodded slowly and remained where he was, following the order. Aramis glanced across to Porthos.

Porthos said quietly, 'he ain't even got the letter anymore, you've got it.'

Porthos rose and fired another shot from the window. The men had moved forward again, taking up spots in the yard using whatever cover they could find, which was very little, but it was enough. None of the men had circled around to the rear of the property, there were no other doors and the two windows at the back had been firmly shuttered. The Musketeers did not believe the men could enter from the rear so were able to concentrate on the front of the property.

'You cannot win this...we know nobody is coming,' said the gang leader again, 'give us the letter, we don't want to kill you, but we will if you do not give us the letter.'

Aramis paused by the window. Porthos watched as Aramis looked at something behind him. The marksman reached into his doublet and pulled out the letter, he looked at it for a few seconds. Then back across the room.

'We can't give it to them…' hissed Porthos, thinking that Aramis was considering giving into the men.

Porthos was surprised when Aramis called to the men outside.

'We've barricaded the doors, it'll take us a few minutes to open the door...and we have an injured man...let us deal with him, then you can have your letter.'

'What are you doing?' said Porthos with disbelief.

'Trust me,' whispered Aramis.

'You can have fifteen minutes,' called the man.

Porthos glared at Aramis who looked a little surprised at the response.

'I didn't think that would work…'

Porthos watched as Aramis opened the letter.

'Have you lost your mind?' said Porthos.

'I'm saving our lives,' replied Aramis quietly as he moved across to a small table that had writing materials on it, 'look at the handwriting…'

Aramis held up the letter to Porthos who reluctantly took it, he glanced at the writing. The words were written in a loose swirling hand. Porthos had to admit it had a familiarity about it.

'Does it remind you of anything?'

Porthos looked at the letter again and then back at Aramis who was smiling. He realised what Aramis was proposing.

'They won't buy it…'

'They haven't seen the letter up close.'

'You're going to forge a copy with your spidery scrawl, 'cos it looks similar?'

Aramis nodded, taking the letter back, 'but I'm going to change some key details.'

'They won't buy it…' said Porthos again shaking his head.

'So far they have believed d'Artagnan was prepared to throw the letter away and they now think that our young friend is keeping them at bay from an upstairs window...they are not that intelligent…'

Porthos shook his head, what Aramis was proposing was ridiculous. Not only had his friend opened a letter with a royal seal on it, he was now reading it carefully and copying it out on some similar paper. They were Musketeers on the Kings business, the contents of the letter was not for their eyes. The contents of the letter might affect them but they were not supposed to be party to it.

'Start moving the barricade, we have to keep to our side of the bargain. This won't take me long, I'll hand it over. Once they've gone we'll leave, take the cart from the stable for Athos and d'Artagnan, we can't wait for Athos to come around.'

'You've got it all worked out ain't you...but I'm handing the letter over. You can cover me from upstairs. They need your medical skill more than they need me.'

Aramis was about to protest but stopped when Porthos glared at him. Instead, he looked towards Athos.

'See if he has his signet ring on him.'

Porthos furrowed his brow. Aramis had gone back to his work of copying the letter, he glanced up when Porthos had not moved.

'We'll need to seal the letter, I know it won't be a royal seal but hopefully they won't know the difference.'

Porthos shook his head again, Aramis was either a genius or insane, he thought. He searched Athos for the seal of the Comte de la Fere, finding the ring in a pocket. Athos did not stir during the search of his clothes.

Aramis had finished writing and was busy heating up a small stub of sealing wax with a candle, watching as the drips of wax landed on the folded letter. Porthos handed him the signet ring which he pressed into the wax carefully.

Aramis paused for a few seconds, Porthos could see a moment of doubt crossing his friend's mind. He stared at the letter as the wax set.

'It's a good plan...it's better than no plan,' said Porthos in an attempt to reassure the marksman.

Aramis nodded as he continued to stare at the letter. After a few seconds he nodded again with a slightly shaky sigh. He turned to Porthos and handed him the letter.

'Give me a chance to get settled upstairs...good luck.'

Aramis crossed the room checking his gun as he went. Porthos watched him climb the stairs, he heard the floorboards creak as his friend reached the window at the front of the house.

Porthos turned to the door, the next few minutes would decide if they survived their misadventure or not.

MMMM

Authors note: I'm working tomorrow so the next chapter will go up in the afternoon, UK time.


	4. Chapter 4

Authors note: As always thanks for the reviews, favourites and follows.

Chapter Four

Porthos pulled the door open. The men were standing on the edge of the yard. They did not want to venture any closer for fear of being shot. Porthos was quite pleased that between the two of them they had managed to make the men think there were three Musketeers, not two, keeping them at bay.

With the letter held in his right hand, he walked slowly forward. He was careful to keep his hands away from his weapons. He did not want to appear a threat to the men.

The leader walked towards him warily.

'I'm pleased you've seen sense. I'm sorry your friend was shot, will he be alright?'

'It's not serious,' said Porthos. He was not going to offer them any information they did not already have and he hoped they would think that Athos' injury was superficial.

'We live in dangerous times,' said the man, 'we are men who are doing the bidding of others.'

Porthos had stopped a few yards from the house, he did not want to risk moving too far away in case he needed to retreat quickly.

'Who are you working for?' asked Porthos.

'We're paid well...not to talk. We were told that four Musketeers would be passing through here with a letter. We were told to obtain it.'

Porthos thought for a moment before asking, 'why did you kill the farmer and his men?'

The leader of the group glanced back to his men for a second, 'that was...regrettable,' he said.

Porthos did not respond. The man continued.

'One of the labourers overheard two of my men talking about how we were going to get the letter from you...we had no choice but to silence them.'

'You didn't have to silence them permanently,' retorted Porthos.

'The young men fought back, the old man had a gun.'

Porthos shook his head. Despite the man's assurance that they would take the letter and leave Porthos was unsure. He hoped that the gang now believed they were, almost, four active soldiers ready to fight back. If the gang did believe that both Athos and d'Artagnan were not badly injured there was a chance the men would leave them alone.

The man held his hand out for the letter. Porthos stepped forward and handed it to him. The man did not look at the letter, he kept his gaze on Porthos as he tucked the forgery into his doublet.

Porthos had to hide a smirk, he could not believe the man had not even glanced at the letter.

'My men have their guns aimed at you. Stay there until we are gone.'

Porthos nodded and remained where he was as the gang leader backed away. He reached the edge of the yard before he turned. Porthos heard the other gang members retreating. He waited a few more seconds before hurrying back to the house.

Aramis had returned to the living area, meeting Porthos as he entered the house.

'I wish we had time to bury the farmer and his men,' he said looking back up the stairs.

Porthos nodded sadly, 'I agree, but we need to go...your forgery was good, but it might still be found out.'

'I'm not happy to leave their injuries untended to. We'll head for the nearest town, it's big enough, we should be safe to stop there unnoticed,' said Aramis as he checked their brothers.

D'Artagnan had sat up again, but had returned to his previous state of staring at the fire. He did not react to Aramis looking at the bandage on his arm.

'Will 'e be alright?'

'I don't know, I think the best thing for him is to rest,' replied Aramis.

'I'll sort the cart out.'

Porthos left his slightly melancholy friend to prepare their injured brothers for the journey.

MMMM

The pressure on his leg was reapplied. He groaned as he opened his eyes. Athos realised he was lying on the floor with Aramis knelt by him wrapping a bandage around his leg.

'Hello,' said Aramis glancing up.

'How long…?'

'Long enough…'

Athos looked at Aramis, he waited patiently for the marksman to finish his ministrations.

'We're leaving very shortly,' said Aramis as he helped Athos to sit up and handed him the water skin.

As Athos drank he watched Aramis turn his attention to d'Artagnan who was staring at the fire, his arm now in a sling. His doublet draped around his shoulders.

'Is he alright?'

'Not really, he's confused. I hope it's just the blood loss. We've not been able to stitch either of you up. We're going to stop at the town.'

'Aramis,' sighed Athos, 'a brief update on what has happened would be appreciated...just the salient points will do.'

Aramis looked up, he thought for a few moments before replying, 'in short, the gang came back, they wanted the letter. I copied the letter and changed some of the details. They have taken the forgery and apparently left. But we are not taking any chances.'

Athos thought for a moment before responding, 'I am impressed...that was quick thinking.'

'We didn't really have much time to think. Your plan worked as well, by the way.'

Athos frowned, he did not know what Aramis meant.

'La Rochelle.'

Athos smiled as his foggy memory cleared, 'really?'

'Yes. And we think Porthos has convinced them that your injury is not too bad either.'

'Let us hope all these gambles will keep us alive.'

They both looked over as they heard the rumble of the cart approaching the house. Porthos appeared in the doorway.

'Ready?'

MMMM

Porthos had disappeared from sight again, the dawn was creeping over the horizon and the visibility was getting better all the time. Aramis hoped that when his friend returned he would again report that there was no sign of the gang.

'How is d'Artagnan doing?' asked Aramis glancing back to Athos who was propped up in the cart.

'I think he is asleep, he has stopped trying to get himself free at any rate.'

When they had first set out it became apparent very quickly that with Porthos scouting around for any sign of the gang and Aramis driving the cart they would not be able to keep an eye on d'Artagnan. Athos was too weakened by his own injury to be able to stop the confused Musketeer from trying to get out of the cart. Porthos had resorted to tying d'Artagnan to the cart much to the younger man's annoyance.

D'Artagnan had still been trying to stop anyone from taking the letter, his mumblings as confused as they had been in the farmhouse. Now that he had fallen asleep Aramis hoped Athos would be able to rest as well.

Athos had managed to stay awake for a while but was clearly exhausted, the blood loss affecting him as well.

They were not far from the town, Porthos had said that after a final check of their surroundings he would go ahead and either find the town's physician, if they had one, or secure them rooms for a couple of days. They needed time to deal with their injuries and neither Aramis or Porthos had slept for many hours and none of them had eaten properly.

Aramis looked around again at the sound of an approaching horse. Porthos slowed to a gentle walk by the cart, he was grinning.

'No sign of them anywhere,' he said, 'I don't want to celebrate too soon, but I think your plan worked.'

'Or they have still not actually looked at the letter,' suggested Aramis.

'I agree, we should not spend too long in the next town and we should keep a low profile whilst we are there,' said Athos.

Porthos nodded his agreement, 'I'll go ahead and sort us out somewhere to stay.'

Aramis watched as he pushed his horse into a canter and moved off ahead of them.

A short time later Aramis could make out the first few houses on the outskirts of the town. It was not long before he saw Porthos' horse tied up outside a smart house. His friend appeared at the door and indicated for Aramis to pull the cart and their horses around to the side of the building.

Two young lads met him and immediately started to deal with their horses and the horse that had been drawing the cart. Aramis was impressed with their efficiency.

'It seems that the gang came through here a couple of weeks ago and caused a bit of a nuisance. The doctor has every sympathy for us. He and his wife are more than happy to help Athos and d'Artagnan,' said Porthos as he caught up with the cart, 'he is going to let the appropriate people know what has happened once he has seen to Athos and d'Artagnan.'

'You can't have the letter…'

'He is awake,' said Athos unnecessarily as d'Artagnan renewed his efforts to escape his restraints.

'I see your young friend could do with a sleeping-draught,' said a smartly dressed man who had appeared behind Porthos.

'He was asleep for a bit, I think-I hope, it's just the blood loss making him act like that,' said Aramis as he jumped off the cart and walked around to d'Artagnan.

'I'll prepare one. Porthos will you show your friends through?'

Porthos nodded as the man walked back into the house.

'That's Marc, his wife, Louise, has a stew cooking that smells divine,' he said with a grin.

Aramis shook his head as he untied d'Artagnan but kept a firm grip on his uninjured arm as he helped him off the cart. He guided the complaining man into the house, following Porthos who was helping Athos to hobble through.

They settled the injured men down. Aramis was forced to sit with d'Artagnan, holding him still until the doctor returned with the drink.

'D'Artagnan,' said Porthos as he crouched in front of their friend, 'if you drink this nobody will be able to get the letter.'

D'Artagnan appeared to think about the proposition for a few seconds before nodding and allowing Porthos to help him to drink.

'It won't take long...hopefully a few hours sleep will see him back to normal,' said the doctor with a smile.

D'Artagnan yawned. Aramis pushed him down onto the bed, arranging him in such a way that his injured arm would be easy to tend to and covered him with a blanket.

Athos was watching, his own eyelids drooping. The doctor turned to him with another cup of the sleeping draught.

Athos looked a little sceptical.

The doctor said, 'if you drink this I can stitch you up without these two having to help…' the doctor paused when Aramis was about to complain, 'you are both exhausted, Porthos told me that you have been on the go since yesterday morning, that is well over twenty-four hours now. We are lucky enough to have a spare room, usually used in times of crisis but you two need to sleep as well...off you go. Your friends are in good hands, my wife and I will take care of them. Go.'

Despite only being a few years older than themselves Aramis and Porthos did as the doctor told them to. Aramis tipped his hat to the doctor before nodding to Athos who was reaching out to take the cup from the doctor as they left the room.

Both Aramis and Porthos were asleep within minutes.

MMMM

'You certainly look brighter than you did yesterday,' a soft feminine voice said as he slowly opened his eyes with a sigh.

'Do you remember where you are Monsieur Athos?' she asked.

'Yes,' mumbled Athos in reply.

'Let's get you up and I will fill you in on what happened yesterday.'

As his sleep clouded vision cleared, he found himself being helped to sit up by a woman wearing a blue dress, her blonde hair swept up neatly. She smiled at him, her blue eyes sparkling as she did so.

Athos managed to settle himself and gratefully accepted the offered water. He looked around the small room. He could remember being helped in by Porthos and reluctantly accepting the sleeping draught from the doctor. He looked down at the blanket covering his legs.

'The wound has been cleaned and stitched, you should make a full recovery, provided you do not strain it too much,' said the woman who Athos remembered was called Louise.

'D'Artagnan?'

Louise, who had been perched on the edge of his bed stood and stepped to the side revealing the sleeping form of his brother on the next bed.

'His injury needed a fair few stitches as well, but it had been kept clean so Marc is hopeful that there is no infection, in either of you.'

'What about his...confusion?'

Louise smiled again, 'poor lad woke a little earlier, Porthos was with him. He is back to normal. When your friend told him what he had been doing and saying he was very embarrassed. I think Porthos perhaps enjoyed teasing him a little too much.'

The woman looked at the sleeping man fondly for a few seconds.

'Where is Porthos now, and Aramis?'

'They both slept for several hours then spent some time sitting with you both so that Marc could tend to his normal patients...and then Porthos taught my husband how to cheat at cards but did not tell Aramis, who was relieved of all the money he had on him.'

Athos smirked at the thought of Aramis being duped by the doctor under Porthos' guidance.

'I think Aramis was a little annoyed when he worked out what was happening, but Porthos made it up to him by getting up early this morning to see to the horses.'

'Does your husband think that d'Artagnan and I will be able to ride soon?'

Louise smiled again, 'Aramis said you would be keen to leave as soon as possible. Provided you are both careful he cannot see a reason why you cannot ride as soon as you feel able. And Aramis appears to be a capable field medic so my husband does not foresee any problems.'

On cue, the field medic appeared in the doorway in the process of tucking his shirt into his breeches.

'Good morning,' Aramis said, 'how are you feeling?'

'Much better than yesterday, still a little weak I will admit, but better.'

'Has he woken up again yet?' asked the marksman as he pulled his braces up over his shoulders and wandered across the room to sit on the edge of d'Artagnan's bed.

'He was awake earlier, he is still embarrassed...you must stop Porthos from teasing him,' admonished Louise.

'Porthos could do with being told to stop a lot of things,' said Aramis rolling his eyes, as he stood up to put on his doublet which had been hanging from the back of a chair.

'I heard about your run in with Monsieur Marc and his card playing skills.'

Aramis grinned as he finished attaching his assortment of weapons to his belts, 'but it did get me out of stable duty this morning.'

They all looked up as Porthos and Marc hurried into the room.

'They're in the town,' said Porthos as he crossed to d'Artagnan and shook him, 'we need to hide, one of them is injured, they're coming here.'

MMMM


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

As Porthos pulled a slightly confused d'Artagnan up to stand and followed Louise from the room Aramis and the doctor helped Athos up.

'I was talking to Monsieur Bardet, the tavern keeper, he told me that the men had returned,' said Marc as he pulled Athos' arm over his shoulder, 'they've taken rooms at the tavern, one of them had fallen from his horse, they're coming here to get his injury checked before they move on…'

'Couldn't you go to them?' asked Athos with a wince.

'No, they were already on their way, the tavern keeper had offered to come and get me but they were insistent that they were merely going to stop here for me to bind the injury properly, none of them is medically trained. They were preparing to leave so Bardet came over to warn me. They will be here any minute. You must hide in the stable.'

'I am sorry we have put you in danger.'

'We will not be in danger if they don't see you,' replied the doctor.

Between them, Aramis and the doctor got Athos into the stable and settled on the floor. Aramis watched as Porthos quietly told d'Artagnan what had happened, the young man nodding his understanding.

'Be careful, monsieur,' said Aramis as the doctor left.

Aramis stood by the door as the doctor pushed it closed with a grim smile, he watched through cracks in the wood as the doctor returned to the house with his wife. Louise glanced back at the stable before disappearing inside.

They waited for a few minutes listening intently. The sound of footsteps caught their attention. Aramis pressed closer to the door to try to glimpse who was approaching. He spotted the gang leader and two of his men.

Aramis turned to his brothers indicated for them to not made a sound.

The men were deep in conversation as they approached.

'You should 'ave just left him, he's useless, if he ain't gone and shot the musketeer we could have taken them by surprise.'

'And what will Fortier say if we return without his brother?' replied the gang leader.

'Fortier will probably be glad to be shot of 'im,' said the first man.

The third man chuckled before saying, 'at least we've got the letter, have you read it?'

'No, I'm not interested in its contents, we'll leave that to the Spanish.'

The Musketeers looked at each other, Aramis felt his pocket, double checking he still had the much sought after letter. When he had read and copied the letter he had quickly realised it related to diplomatic relations and meetings between France and Spain. The contents was not time sensitive, all the planned meetings were for several months time.

'If we knew what it was about we might be able to demand more money?' suggested the third man.

'Fortier won't give us any more money,' said the leader, his voice growing louder as he wandered towards the stable.

Aramis put his hand on his sword as he took a step away from the door, he could make out the man mere feet away. Porthos had moved to stand beside him, his gun drawn, ready in case the men decided to look in the stable.

But the leader simply turned and walked back to his two waiting companions.

'Once the doctor is finished we'll leave straight away, I want this delivered tonight.'

The three men walked off, back towards the front of the house. Aramis sighed, Porthos slung his arm across the marksman's shoulders.

He said quietly, 'your plan worked, they don't know it's a fake.'

'They might when they open it,' said d'Artagnan.

'But they don't intend to open it,' replied Porthos turning to face the others.

Aramis remained where he was staring at the closed door of the stable.

'It was a good plan, Aramis...' said Athos from his place, leaning against the back wall of the barn.

'But?' said Porthos.

Aramis turned to the others, 'but, I opened a sealed letter, a letter with a Royal seal.'

'But you did that to save us,' said d'Artagnan, 'couldn't we just reheat the seal and close the letter up again?'

Athos shook his head, 'it might be noticed, and that would look even worse, it would make us look deceitful.'

Aramis nodded, the thought had crossed his mind several times. He could be responsible for getting them all into a lot of trouble for opening the letter. But at the time he could not see another answer. They could not give the gang the letter, and they could not escape the gang.

'It'll be fine, we'll talk to Treville first, he'll sort it out,' said Porthos, although Aramis thought he detected a slight apprehension in his voice.

MMMM

They had thanked the doctor and his wife for their hospitality, the doctor only took payment for his work. He refused to allow them to pay for the accommodation, he only wanted them to remain safe on their journey back to Paris.

Porthos shifted slightly in his saddle, Athos had tightened his grip a little around his waist. The swordsman had suggested that he could ride alone but Aramis would not allow it. Porthos and Aramis had been taking it in turns to double up with Athos as they travelled. It was clear that Athos was in pain and they stopped frequently for him.

D'Artagnan was fairing better, once he had returned to his normal self he had improved rapidly. He had to be careful, the doctor had given him strict instructions not to strain his injured arm, Aramis had refused to allow him to do anything for himself each time they had stopped.

Both Porthos and Aramis had wanted to take Athos and d'Artagnan to the garrison, but Athos had insisted that they take the letter to the Palace first. They needed to get it into the right hands as soon as possible.

They knew that Treville would be at the Palace, they planned to tell him what had happened. They needed to explain why the letter was open before those members of the court who would not listen to them jumped to the wrong conclusions.

As they neared the Palace they slowed the horses. Aramis dismounted before his horse had completely stopped so that he could help d'Artagnan down. The injured man had given up complaining about the treatment he was getting from them.

Porthos smirked as Aramis crossed to him and reached up to steady Athos as he swung his injured leg off the horse. The doctor had given them a pair of crutches for Athos which had been strapped to whichever horse was riderless as they travelled.

D'Artagnan held the crutches out, earning himself a glare from Aramis and a chuckle from Porthos.

'What happened?' called Treville as he walked across to them.

Porthos looked beyond their Captain to see the King, the Queen, and some of the courtiers following behind. The courtiers were only interested in the King, but the King was probably keen to learn what had caused his Musketeers to be injured. There would probably be no sympathy from the man. Four red guardsmen were accompanying the group, clearly enjoying seeing injured Musketeers.

'We have the letter,' said Athos who nodded to Aramis.

Aramis pulled the letter from his doublet and handed it to Treville who took in its crumpled appearance and looked at the broken seal.

'We need to tell you what happened,' continued Athos quietly nodding towards the King who had reached them.

'Well you are all a sorry sight,' said the King, 'tell me Treville, do you pick men who get themselves injured deliberately?'

'Majesty, if you will permit me, I will hear my men's report and speak with you later,' said Treville.

'No Treville, I want to know what has happened,' the King paused looking at the letter in Treville's hand, he reached out to take it, 'and I want to know why this letter is open. It has a Royal seal on.'

The King folded the letter together and looked at the broken seal for a few seconds.

'This is only meant to be opened by myself or the First Minister.'

'We can explain your Majesty,' began Athos.

'I should hope so.'

The Queen stepped forward, 'I'm sure they have an explanation, if you will let them speak.'

The King sighed and looked at the Musketeers expectantly his arms crossed.

'We were attacked by a gang who wanted the letter,' began Athos, 'we took refuge in a house and could not escape.'

Athos paused, Aramis continued.

'I opened the letter, Majesty…'

'What!' exclaimed the King, 'you're not supposed to open letters with a Royal seal on.'

Porthos noticed the four Red Guardsman move closer to them. He took a step towards Aramis, sensing that the situation had taken a dark turn.

'Arrest him,' said the King waving his hand at Aramis who had been about to explain what had happened.

'Majesty,' said Treville stepping forward.

'I want him hanged,' said the King.

MMMM

The four Red Guardsmen closed in on Aramis who had not moved, staring at the King incredulously.

Pothos took another step forward, his hand on his sword as he did so. He was stopped by Athos who shook his head and nodded towards Treville and the Queen who had both turned to the King.

'Majesty, at least let them explain what happened,' said Treville.

The Queen had rested her hand on the Kings arm, 'please Louis, they must have had a good reason.'

The Red Guardsman had grabbed Aramis, who had paled considerably, and seemed incapable of finding his voice. The men holding him were pulling him away, Aramis was too stunned to react to what was happening.

As they had ridden into Paris they had known there was a chance that they would be admonished for opening the letter. They had hoped that once they had explained the situation and what Aramis had done nothing would happen.

'He's committed treason,' said the King, his face reddening with rage.

'Please, your Majesty,' said Athos using his most noble tone, 'allow us to relate what happened before you pass judgement.'

The King looked at Athos for a few seconds, then glanced over at the Red Guardsmen who had managed to lead Aramis a few yards away. The marksman had stumbled along with them too shocked to resist.

'Wait,' he said.

The guardsmen stopped, they looked disappointed. Aramis still looked stunned, his breathing had quickened.

The King turned to Athos.

'Myself and d'Artagnan had been injured, the gang had us pinned down in a house. Aramis realised that the only way to save our lives was to give the gang the letter…'

Before the King could speak Athos continued.

'He found some similar paper, and copied the letter. He changed some of the details so that contents of the letter are still known only to the writer...and now Aramis.'

The King looked across at Aramis who was still being held firmly by the guards. Porthos could tell the King realised that what Aramis had done was not malicious and was, in fact, likely to save lives. It was also clear that the King did not want to appear to have made a mistake by condemning Aramis to hang.

'Perhaps execution is a little severe,' he said after a pause, 'but he should still be punished, I cannot allow people to open sealed letter on a whim.'

'This was hardly a whim,' said Treville.

'Even so, he should still be punished, have him flogged instead.'

MMMM

The guardsmen took the cue and started to drag Aramis away again. Treville watched for a few seconds as he tried to think of a way to stop the ridiculous turn of events.

He was pleased they had put a stop to the original punishment but did not want to see Aramis flogged for what he had done. Aramis looked pale, his usual cocky demeanour had deserted him.

Treville looked at Porthos who was scowling at the King. The big Musketeer was clearly thinking something through.

Porthos took a step forward, escaping from Athos, 'if you're gonna flog Aramis, you'll 'ave to flog me as well. I read the letter.'

The guards paused again, Aramis twisted around looking across at Porthos, stunned. He tried to take a step towards his friend, stopped by the guardsmen. The marksman finally found his voice.

'Porthos...don't...you didn't…'

The guardsman pulled Aramis back a few steps.

Both Athos and d'Artagnan stepped forward.

'I will also need to be punished as I was there, I should have stopped him from opening the letter,' said Athos.

'You were unconscious,' remarked Aramis, who was shaken by the guardsman holding him in an attempt to stop him speaking.

'I was there, I read the letter,' said d'Artagnan.

'You were incoherent,' said Aramis, earning himself another shove from the men holding him.

Treville took a step forward, 'majesty, would you see me four men down as they all recover from their punishment?'

The Queen leaned toward the King and spoke quietly, glancing at Aramis several times as she did so.

The King sighed and rolled his eyes, 'it seems I have no authority today...alright he doesn't have to be flogged. Treville I will leave it to you to pick a suitable punishment for his indiscretion.'

Treville glanced at Porthos when he audibly sighed, Porthos merely raised his eyebrows in response.

'You may leave, I don't want to see him for a few weeks,' said the King with a glare in Aramis' direction.

The red guard reluctantly let Aramis go. Aramis still looked stunned. The Musketeers quickly bowed and walked away. Porthos kept close to Aramis, walking slightly behind his friend, his hand on the marksman's back the entire time gently guiding him out of sight of the King. Treville got the impression that Porthos was ready to kill anyone who dared go near Aramis.

Aramis was still pale, Treville was sure the Musketeer was shaking. He did not blame Aramis, the few minutes he had been in the presence of the King had included a death sentence closely followed by a sentence of corporal punishment.

Treville turned to Aramis and said, 'your punishment is to take this money and spend it on good wine and food at a tavern of your choice. I don't expect to see any of you tomorrow. I'm proud of what you did Aramis.'

Treville held out his hand, containing several coins, towards Aramis. When the marksman did not react Porthos stepped forward and took the money.

'I'll see it's spent correctly. We'll see to it that 'e is well and truly punished Captain.'

Treville smiled as he dropped the coins into Porthos' hand, he knew they would look after the still pale and shocked man.

MMMM

Once they had been away from the King, Aramis had turned to them all. He had still been pale and obviously shocked at what had just happened.

'I...you…' he stuttered, 'you didn't have to risk yourselves for me.'

Porthos had grabbed his friend in a tight hug before saying.

'Yes we did, you'd have done the same, you saved us by opening the bloody letter.'

Aramis had not look convinced.

Now they were sat at a table in the tavern having enjoyed a good meal courtesy of Treville. Athos had hobbled over to another table to speak to an acquaintance whilst d'Artagnan had gone to buy more wine.

Aramis had been quiet for much of the evening, Porthos watched him carefully as he reached out for his cup of wine. The marksman's hand was still shaking.

Aramis noticed Porthos was watching him and looked a little embarrassed.

'Hey, don't worry about it...I won't tell them,' said Porthos nodding in the vague direction of Athos and d'Artagnan.

Aramis nodded his thanks with a smile.

'Remember when I was in that position,' said Porthos, 'when the judge sentenced me to hang…' he paused at the memory, 'it was probably the most scared I've ever been, I felt helpless, I couldn't get away, there seemed to be no way out...I know it worked out in the end...but, I was shaking. For ages afterwards.'

Aramis managed another smile before quietly thanking his friend again.

D'Artagnan plonked the wine on the table as Athos returned, carefully lowering himself into the seat and allowing Porthos to relieve him of his crutches.

Porthos filled their cups before raising his a little, the others looked at him.

'To gambling. D'Artagnan's gamble worked out pretty well,' he said winking at the younger man, 'Athos, your gamble regarding la Rochelle worked, and Aramis, perhaps the biggest gamble, I've been involved in for a while.'

He was about to drink when Aramis spoke, 'and Porthos, you took a chance that the King would not want to see all of us punished for what I did, you knew that they,' he indicated Athos and d'Artagnan with a smile, 'would follow your lead, that was a pretty good gamble as well.'

'Sometimes they pay off,' replied Porthos before taking a generous swig of wine.

The End.

Authors note: I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for all the reviews, favourites and follows.


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